Incubus Dreams - Laurell K. Hamilton [173]
“Then why did you nearly run us up the back of three different cars?” Graham asked.
I opened my mouth, closed it, and didn’t know what to say. “I think I crossed my last few lines tonight.”
“What does that mean?” Graham asked.
“I broke some personal rules tonight, that’s all.”
“Rules that you thought would never be broken,” Requiem said softly.
I looked at him, surprised. “You say that like you know.”
“A person likes to think of himself in a certain way, and when something happens that makes that no longer possible, you mourn the old self. The person you thought you were.”
I shook my head. “I am still the person I thought I was, damn it.”
He gave a shrug that reminded me of that graceful lift of shoulders that Jean-Claude always did. “As you like, m’lady.”
I turned around in my seat and put my forehead against the steering wheel. I just wanted this night over with. I didn’t want to have to explain myself to anyone, let alone one of the men that I’d had sex with by accident tonight. The trouble was, I wasn’t sure that I believed what I’d just said. It wasn’t just the sex with Byron and Requiem, it was that tonight, for the first time, I’d let Jean-Claude into my head as far as he could go. For the first time we’d touched what might be possible if only I’d get out of our way. Until tonight, I hadn’t realized how much I’d crippled us. As much in my own way as Richard. I’d thought that sleeping with Jean-Claude and doing small things with him was being his human servant. I’d learned differently less than an hour ago, and that knowledge was eating me up. It wasn’t that I had crippled us as a triumverate of power. No, I’d guessed that before, just not the amount of crippling. I thought my limits and boundaries had hobbled us, not cut both our legs off at the knees. What I hadn’t expected, what I hadn’t wanted to know, was how good it felt to let Jean-Claude roll me. It had been a-fucking-mazing. Peaceful and intoxicating all at the same time. I’d never really known what I was doing without, because I had been so careful not to let him show me. And he had respected my wishes.
I knew now that it had cost him dear. Cost him in power he might have had, safety he might have built for his vampires, and in the sheer pleasure he might have experienced. He’d cut himself off from so much, just because I couldn’t handle it. That made me feel guilty, but part of the real problem was that after I’d let Jean-Claude in that deep, I’d then turned around and had sex with Byron, and let Requiem bite me. Two things I didn’t do lightly. Yeah, it had been imporant, maybe urgent, maybe it had saved the lives of most of those women in that club. Maybe it had even saved Jean-Claude’s life. I’d felt Primo’s power and the whisper of the Dragon. But that wasn’t what bothered me the most.
Jean-Claude had gained Nathaniel and Damian’s neediness. What had I gained? I’d had sex with Byron and Requiem, and I didn’t feel bad about it. Even now, I felt bad only because I didn’t feel bad. It hadn’t bothered me. That’s what made me almost run into three cars, and pull into the parking lot so I could have my little moment of shock reaction.
I didn’t feel guilty about Byron. I only felt guilty about not feeling guilty about it. And even now, I wanted to turn the car around and go back to Jean-Claude. I wanted him to hold me, to kiss me, to feed from me. I wanted the whole ride, now that I’d had a taste. I wanted it the way junkies want their fix. That’s not love. That’s control. I wouldn’t let anyone control me like that. I couldn’t, not and still be me.
I didn’t explain any of this to Graham or Requiem. They weren’t close enough to me for a heart-to-heart. I just said, “Whoever feels better to drive, drive.”
“I do not know how to drive,” Requiem said.
“I’ll drive,” Graham said, “just don’t touch me while I’m behind the wheel.”
“I’ll do my best to resist,” I said, and made it plain by my tone that it wouldn’t be hard.
He laughed and got out his door to walk around. In the moments it took him to walk around the